


Not-So-Distant Memories

by RedneckWerewolf



Series: Who is The Lamb and Who is The Knife [3]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Emotional Abuse, Hurt/Comfort, Vent Piece, anyways this has yelling and a third party fleeing in fear, having a bad night and need to get the old feelings out before they burn me from the inside out, i guess, tfw u think to urself 'no i don't have ptsd' but u fuckin do
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2018-05-08
Packaged: 2019-03-23 00:00:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13775388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedneckWerewolf/pseuds/RedneckWerewolf
Summary: Danse and Hancock get into a fight and Lamb realizes that 200+ years in a freezer doesn't erase childhood trauma.





	1. Chapter 1

   Lamb dreamed about her mother, that she had once again burst into her bedroom to scream at her about  _school or a job or whatever the older woman had decided she was angry about today. Or rather, what her mother's boyfriend had decided to be angry about._ In her mind she knew the woman screaming in her doorway was long dead, removed from her life even before the world had burned.

   But she felt the same deep fear, that this might finally be the day she gets hit, by her mother or her boyfriend. The man always seemed on the edge of violence; in everything he said, in every move he made. 

    _No,_ she told herself,  _it's not like that anymore. I got away from her._

   Lamb woke suddenly to the sound of something breaking in the kitchen. She threw her covers off in a panic and started frantically pulling on day clothes. She hadn't escaped her dream, it seemed. She could hear yelling, arguing, two male voices and she was confused because _there should have been only one. Only ever one man yelling, one woman, often two._

She wasn't fully awake, despite the sudden burst of adrenaline fueling her as she fumbled about in her bed. She grabbed her day pack and started stuffing snacks and her canteen in, a notepad and pencil, some spare clothes she had in a cubby. While she quietly climbed down her ladder she grabbed her sleeping roll off her other pack. She also took the pistol Nick had given her. As she slowly and carefully zipped her pack up she listened to the kitchen closely, feeling absolutely like prey. 

   It was Hancock and Danse, arguing _very loudly_ over something. She didn't know what or why, she just knew that she needed  _out._

There was a tiny window in her little bedroom, but it was too small to climb out. The front and side doors were out of the question. She realized she could slip out of the window in Danse's room and not be seen. As long as they didn't look down the hallway.

   She fearfully crept towards the open door as the volume in the house rose again. She cringed and shrank, feeling her throat close up. The door was quiet as she inched it open, never once looking behind her. She clicked the door closed behind her and remembered the mismatched door and frame didn't have an actual lock. She felt like puking as she heard one of them slam something down on the counter. Lamb looked around and saw the wobbly chair she and Danse were trying to fix as a side project. 

   Lamb jammed it under the door knob and went over to the window. She shakily pulled it up, her heart skipping with every squeak it made. 

   She got it open and climbed out, turned around and closed it, leaving obvious hand prints on the glass. She was too afraid to try and wipe them off, reliving the fear she'd endured for years, of getting in trouble for something so insignificant as that. The chair would've gotten her screamed at much worse, though. 

   Lamb, something of a rising star in the Brotherhood of Steel, General of the Minutemen, next in line to run the Institute, turned and ran out of the backyard and held back terrified sobs.

...

   Blind terror gave way to exhaustion after she'd crossed the stream and entered the hilly area that partially surrounded Sanctuary. She made her way to a pond where mirelurks nested. She pulled her small pack off and sat down heavily in the dirt in a small patch of brushy trees above the area. 

   The energy drained out of her when she hit the ground, her fear curdling into humiliation.

   Why had she run like that? She wasn't a teenager anymore, her mother had been dead for over two hundred years, the boyfriend even longer. Her other source of terror, her oldest sister; the one with the anger issues, always using her as a doormat and punching bag, had probably died back then as well.

   She dropped her head to her knees and started to cry.

   After a few minutes, Lamb decided to stop. She let the familiar numbness take over as she mechanically opened her pack and removed a paper bag of sweet rolls.

   She supposed she should take care of herself before bothering to return. She'd have a lot of explaining to do. Like why she was sneaking back in the house through Danse's window, why his room was barricaded shut, or why the hell she'd been gone in the first place.

   She drank from her canteen and watched the pond in the gully below.

   The mirelurks never ventured far from the body of water. They hadn't posed a threat to the settlement so far, so they got to live in peace. Lamb watched as one of the larger ladies scuttled around the deep end of their pond.

   She decided to settle in and do some observation. It would help her calm down, at the very least.

...

   Lamb awoke with a start to the sound of someone approaching. She blindly went for her pistol but was stopped by Preston's voice.

   " _Easy!_ It's just me." 

   She stopped herself and sat back, rubbing her eyes clear. She saw that she'd scattered everything she'd had in her lap, and that the sun was quite low. Preston knelt down beside her and helped her gather the loose odds and ends.

   "Lamb, what's wrong? You've been gone all day," he asked, concern clear in his voice, relief in his eyes.

   She froze, one hand in her pack. "Oh."

   He figured not to urge her any further, and instead looked at the page of her open notebook in his hand. _"Mirelurk babies like salisbury steak,"_ he read aloud. Preston smiled and Lamb felt her heart warm.

   "Now how did you figure  _that_ out?"

...

   Their walk back to Sanctuary was quiet, Preston didn't press her, having seen her face when he'd initially asked. He'd simply helped her gather her things, and glanced through her notes as they walked. 

   He'd flipped back to the beginning of the day's notes and saw:  _Too scary at home, left._

   Preston decided he was going to get an explanation from her housemates if he had to strangle it out of them.

...

   Lamb didn't know what to expect when she got to the faded orange door. She _didn't_ expect more yelling, or to get in trouble somehow, but the fear settled back into the depths of her stomach. Only Preston got her to open the door and step back into her own home. Danse and Hancock were waiting at the kitchen table, a pile of ceramic debris and a bottle of wonderglue in front of them.

   Danse quickly stood, his chair screeching backwards, and he froze dumbly with his hands on the table. "Are you...?"

   "Lamb, where have you been?" Hancock cut in gently, pushing his chair away from the table and approaching her. He moved almost warily, watching her face for  _anything_. 

   Lamb tried to answer but could only stutter out the beginnings of an explanation. Danse finally got himself to move and closed the distance between them, but both he and Hancock were blocked by Preston stepping between them.

   He held up the notebook, opened to the the incriminating page. "Explain."

   Hancock got it first and while he tried to find what the minuteman was talking about, Lamb remembered what she had written. Her face burned as she reached for the book, but he read the top line and met his eyes instead. 

   She saw a measure of shame and pity- and  _anger._ Lamb had a moment of panic before the ghoul passed the notebook to the paladin beside him. He looked at Preston first for permission before being allowed to move close enough to the now-sniffling woman so that he could wrap his arms around her.

   Lamb heard Danse swear softly before Hancock began to speak quietly into her ear.

_"I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry."_

She'd never gotten any kind of apology from  _anyone_ before.

   Lamb started to cry, quickly moving to sobbing as her three friends surrounded her, somewhat awkwardly arranging themselves to embrace her.

   Danse untangled himself after a bit. "Lamb, go shower, you'll feel better." 

   She nodded, Hancock wiping her face with a rag he'd produced from a pocket.

   "We'll make dinner and we can talk, alright?" Danse continued gently.

   Hancock and Danse scooted out of the way so Preston could lead her down the hallway, her hiccuping fading in and out as she moved in and out of her room. Preston reappeared and ushered the pair back to the kitchen table.

   "Alright you two, what the hell happened in here?" he demanded, finally letting his anger show. His voice was low and dangerous and Danse shifted almost nervously.

   "Whatever the  _fuck_ you were arguing about, it scared her so bad that she _ran and hid._ "

   Hancock opened his mouth but Preston silenced him with a motion of his hand. "Before you tell me, you need to know: if you ever do something like this  _again_ , both of you  _will_ regret it."

   He meant it. 

...

   Lamb shuffled back out to the living room about a half hour later, to find that her housemates were thoroughly whipped. Hot food was waiting for her, and again she was reminded that she hadn't eaten something substantial since the night before.

   It was going to take her days to get her energy back from the day's events, but at least she had people in her life that actually cared about her. People that wouldn't just ignore her or get even angrier at her reactions. 

   People that fucked up sometimes, but were people she could _trust_.


	2. An Ending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lamb shares some more about what triggered her reaction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shout out to the two ppl who read this garbage i post

   Lamb had sat herself on the shower floor, half in the spray, absent-mindedly swiping a sudsy washcloth over herself while the scent of hubflowers bloomed in the hot steam. She blankly recalled her day, ashamed of her fear, uneasy with herself for her reaction.

   Eventually she forced herself to stand up and turn the water off, aware that her friends were waiting for her.  She dried off quickly and pulled on the pajamas she’d grabbed- a pair of Hancock’s boxers and a green plaid flannel shirt minus its sleeves.

   She’d let Hancock borrow the shirt and he’d lost the sleeves at the elbows to a couple of enraged mongrel puppies. Lamb had carefully used her stitch ripper on the shoulder seams while Hancock attempted to cuddle and play with the wild pups.

   Lamb smiled at the memory, letting it erase some of the negativity of the day, and left the bathroom.

   Danse handed her a large bowl and gently squeezed her arm when she had settled on the couch between Hancock and Preston. The Paladin gave her a soft apologetic look. Lamb quietly thanked him as he settled on Preston’s other side.

   The bowl was filled with pan-fried radstag meat and vegetables lying on a bed of rice. Her mouth watered, she hadn’t eaten much more than a few snacks all day.

   She started to tear up unexpectedly as she looked at her meal. _Damn,_ she thought, _they actually_ care. These people she loved and trusted actually reciprocated, and weren’t afraid to show it.

   Lamb then thought about Danse’s culinary progress since she’d met him while she eagerly shoveled it into her mouth.

   When she’d first shown up at the police station, limited resources hadn’t helped his skills any. However, after they’d reached Sanctuary and made a home there, Danse was under the watch of the Longs and Mama Murphy, who were appalled and started teaching him how to make meals that didn’t taste like 200-year-old MREs. Between them and seeking advice from caravan cooks and competent settlers, Danse’s meals were now not only edible, but delicious.

   She came back to reality with the slow realization that she’d finished her food and had leaned into Hancock. One of them had taken her bowl as she’d sleepily cuddled into his side. Hancock had wrapped his arm around her as she nodded off. Hell _,_ she was _exhausted._

   “I think you’d better get to bed,” Preston said softly.

   She mumbled an agreement and wiggled off Hancock and off of the couch. “Night Preston,” she hadn’t realized that he’d stood up until she was hugging him. He smelled like leather and sunshine and pleasantly of sweat.

   Lamb didn’t realize that she’d almost passed out in his arms until she heard Hancock’s quiet chuckle as she was scooped up and carried back to Danse’s bedroom. The very same room where she’d made her terrified escape earlier that day.

   Lamb, in embarrassment, turned her face into Danse’s chest. _Hopefully they’ll just think I’m trying to go to sleep._ Distantly, she heard the front door click shut.

_They’re gonna want to talk about it._

_You_ need _to talk about it._

   Lamb sighed internally before quietly speaking up, though her voice was muffled by Danse’s shirt.

   “What were you two fighting about?”

   Danse set her on the bed and met her eyes. Though she didn’t stray her gaze from Danse’s, she noticed that the room was lit by a small oil lamp on the nightstand as Hancock sat next to her on the bed and took her hand.

   “I honestly don’t remember.”

   “It was something real fuckin stupid I bet,” Hancock said dryly.

   “You both sent me straight back to my mother’s house and you can’t even remember _why_ you were screaming at each other?” Her voice broke and she flopped backwards and covered her eyes with the arm that Hancock wasn’t holding.

   Lamb swore softly and started to cry again.

   She wasn’t sure how exactly it happened, since she was busy being embarrassed about crying _again_ , but Danse and Hancock maneuvered her to be lying properly in the middle of the bed. One friend on either side of her: comforting her, petting her, and occasionally wiping her face with a damp rag. She didn’t know when they had the opportunity to grab one.

   Lamb was too tired to keep crying, but she still couldn’t relax. She kept thinking about how her home was always full of screaming, how she’d confined herself to her room for her teen years and beyond for her own safety.

_They won’t hurt you. Never on purpose. You know that._

   “We can talk about this at length tomorrow, if you want,” Danse said into the fuzz of her head. He was spooning her, her head tucked under his chin.

   “No, you just- I- I thought I was back in my mom’s house when her old boyfriend lived in our house. He was a real fucking bastard and he hated me and my sisters.” She sniffled before continuing. “Everyone was always screaming at each other, and my mom never saw any problem with it. She never _did anything._ I always felt like I was going to get fucking attacked if I left my room,” she hesitated. “And there was one time that he almost did but my oldest sister did something decent for once and stepped between us.”

   “ _Jesus,”_ Hancock hissed, drawing closer to her.

   She felt Danse huff into her hair.

   “Then both of my sisters moved out and then it was just me, alone with all that. And my mom never cared. She just made it seem like it was my fault and I deserved all of it.” Lamb felt her throat ache again before a sob burst out.

   Danse wrapped his arm around her protectively, though he knew the people who would harm her were long gone.

   “I guess you finally know why I kept flinching when you reprimanded me,” she joked weakly.

   Hancock twisted around momentarily and started dabbing at her swollen eyes with the damp cloth he’d picked off the nightstand on his side. “You never deserved any of that kinda shit.”

   “I just don’t know why I’m _still fucking crying about it._ I know both of you went through worse, and you don’t cry and run away when someone yells. Besides- it’s not like they ever actually hit me. There was just a lot of screaming and slamming shit around.” Her voice was small.

   “That doesn’t excuse it,” Danse objected. She could feel his heart beating faster in what she supposed was righteous indignation. “It still affected you.”

   Hancock wiggled as close as possible and tangled his legs in hers, holding her free hand in his. Lamb’s heart stuttered, he was close enough to simply tilt her head and press her lips to his. She shooed the inappropriate thought away. She was in the middle of crying over old wounds and here she was thinking about kissing her friend. In front of another friend she wanted to kiss.

   He seemed to realize the effect he was having on her and she saw him smile in the lamplight. _You little ass,_ she thought. But it was calming, _distracting._

   “We’ll discuss _our_ crimes in the morning,” Hancock whispered. “Do you wanna go rinse your face before going to sleep?”

   She nodded, Danse rising so she could slip off the bed. Lamb quickly brushed her teeth heard them murmuring to each other. She couldn’t make out what they were saying but Danse sounded agitated. She cupped cool water in her hands and simply stuck her face in. The water drained between her thin fingers and she grabbed a random towel that was hung over the curtain.

   Lamb found herself sitting back on the bed, Danse on her right, Hancock on her left. Danse had his arm around her while Hancock stroked her hair.

   “I never ran before,” she said, somewhat blank.

   Both men made a sound of confusion.

   “What do you mean?”

   “I never bailed whenever things’d… _start up_. I was too scared to do anything besides hiding in my room and trying to ignore it.” Her hands sat in her lap, fingers twisting nervously together, worried as though telling them this would get her in trouble. “Half the time my mom would decide to just fling my door open and start screaming at me. It was always about something stupid. And then my sister would scream at her for screaming at me.” Lamb swallowed loudly. “It was a fucking mess.”

   “She’s long gone, Sunshine. Ain’t gotta worry about that shit now,” Hancock’s voice was soothing.

   They sat together on the edge of the bed for a little longer, Hancock moving to rub her back, Danse’s thumb working small circles into her upper arm.

   “Knight, you really need to rest,” Danse said quietly. Lamb felt his arm tense slightly around her. “That’s an order,” He continued, sounding almost smug over his authority.

   Lamb let out a tiny, resigned sigh through her nose before freeing herself and reclaiming her spot in the center of the bed. Danse had the biggest bed in the house, a large wooden frame with a pair of mattresses nestled inside. It was a project from when they’d first come to Sanctuary, made especially useful since Danse sometimes allowed a third party in.

   Although the third party was _usually_ Dogmeat.

   Lamb tried to push away the dread of what sleep entailed as Hancock flopped like a landed fish next to her, trying to arrange himself among the pillows. Lamb closed her eyes as Danse got up to close the door, and felt the mattress sink when he sat back down.

   The lamp squeaked as it was extinguished and Lamb opened her eyes to darkness. She wiggled around onto her side and faced Hancock again. Danse’s arm went around her waist as he pressed close.

   Hancock’s hand briefly cupped her jaw before sliding over her hand, which was curled to her chest. He held it protectively.

   Eventually she relaxed and started to fade, feeling Danse sigh into her hair, Hancock nestling closer as he, too, fell asleep.

   Lamb didn’t dream much, for which she was grateful. Just a blurry memory of a scene from the hills beyond the town.

   She was slow to wake early the next morning, realizing with her newfound friends, she at least had a chance to heal from her wretched life before the Great War.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> boy am i severely depressed

**Author's Note:**

> /hmmmm i'm having a shitty night and cried a bit but hey an update  
> /[lmao i rly wish i had the option to run and not just lock myself in my room or that i could've actually called my friends or someone to come and get me]  
> /ever think abt all those times it was too scary at home but u couldn't leave  
> / one time i was so scared i jumped the fence and hid in the wooded lot next door barefoot before i had to go back and i nearly was assaulted by my mom's boyfriend at the time just lovin all the trauma that my mom ignored  
> / sanctuary is just a place where a bunch of traumatized dumbasses live  
> / preston is fucking pissed


End file.
